One Year

Oh, the difference a year can make. One year ago, this very moment I am writing this, we had to ‘unplug’ the equipment connected to my brother Bob. The equipment sustaining his life, maintaining his breathing, ensuring he was alive. He was alive….but not conscious. The doctor told us he may linger for days, even weeks….or just minutes.

Thankfully for all, it turned out to only be minutes. Bob slid away from us before our very eyes. My only brother, my first best friend, a man I loved and adored, was gone. He was gone from his wife, his children, his parents, his siblings, and from the countless people who not only relied on his presence, but craved it. But he had suffered enough…. It was his time.

At first, I didn’t think I could carry on. None of us did. It’s testament to how much he was loved that for us, the world almost literally stopped at that moment. We looked at each other through the tears, hugged and held each other tightly.

And then….we breathed.

Ever so slowly, the earth began to spin again. Locked in our grief, we barely perceived it. But nonetheless, it did. And with time, first measured in minutes, then hours, then days, we all began to pick up the pieces of our individual existences, and moved on.

It would be obtuse of me to sit and stew and grieve. So many others have suffered and endured much more than we had. It is a terrible thing to lose a loved one. As humans, we inflict much more pain n each other than any other species, often for the most trivial of reasons. It defies logic, yet is our nature. Life is so precious, yet as a species we so often piss it away. It is sad.

The days turned to weeks, the weeks to months, and before you know it, it’s been a year. It was a wild one, to be sure. More heartache, more shock, more surprises. But also lots of fun, tons of joy and many wonderful things. Such is the dichotomy of life. In the midst of pain we can experience pleasure. In the midst of sadness, we can experience joy. It’s in experiencing the extremes that we come to appreciate the calmness when we do have it. The pure moments of existence without duress; they aren’t as plentiful as we’d like, but I can tell you this….I sure do appreciate them more than one year ago.

I don’t think Bob would mind if I say this… I’m pretty sure he’d approve. I miss you buddy, but I’m okay. We’re okay. We think of you often, but we’re healing. Your family is doing okay. Everything and everyone has had to move on, to continue to grow.